


Twin Suns: Altered Destiny

by shadowmaat



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Excessive Talking, Gen, maulodramatic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowmaat/pseuds/shadowmaat
Summary: An alternate take on the Rebels epTwin Suns.Maul and Obi-Wan have a much more involved conversation which has a much bigger effect on how things turn out for both of them.





	1. Chapter 1

Obi-Wan had to _push_ the young padawan to get him to leave. A simple request wouldn’t have been enough, not for someone with that much anger and stubbornness in him. But with the Force backing him up he got Bridger to leave with barely a backward glance.

“See you soon, apprentice,” Maul called after him.

“Apprentice?” Obi-Wan turned to face him, keeping his movements as calm as possible. “Funny, he didn’t feel like your apprentice.”

“Oh, but he is.” Maul’s smirk faltered. “Was. Could be.”

“You don’t sound very certain of that.” Obi-Wan watched him, taking in his ragged appearance. The signs of heatstroke radiated even within the Force.

“It’s only a matter of time.” Maul sauntered closer, his artificial legs spasming as sand ground into the gears. He’d clearly had a few upgrades since Obi-Wan had last seen him, but the harsh climate- and harsher wildlife- of Tatooine had not been kind to them. Chunks were missing. Wires were exposed. Pain ghosted through the Force with every careful step.

“The Darkness calls to him. Like a song. And he is _so easily_ led,” Maul crooned, lurching to a stop.

“He may not be as far gone as you would like, Maul.” Obi-Wan stayed alert. Maul seemed like he wanted to talk, but he knew how quickly that could change.

“He will be,” Maul’s teeth flashed in the firelight. “He won’t be able to help himself. So much anger. So much self-righteousness. Such a burning need to prove he’s better than everyone. He reminds me of someone, you know.”

Obi-Wan froze, flashing back to that terrible moment on Mustafar.

Maul tilted his head. “Who was it, now? Ah, yes. It was _your_ apprentice, wasn’t it? Hmm, what was his name?”

“You know damned well who he was, Maul.” Obi-Wan took a calming breath, trying to center himself again.

“Anakin Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan managed not to flinch. Barely.

“The _Chosen One_.” Maul started walking again, circling around Obi-Wan, who turned to keep him in sight. “Tell me, how did that work out for you?”

Icy dread filled his chest. He couldn’t know. No one knew. He waited, silent.

“Gave in to all that anger and died, didn’t he? So much for the Great Hope of the Galaxy.” Maul stumbled but recovered himself. “And so much for the teachings of the great Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Relief rushed through him. Maul thought Anakin was dead. And he was, from a certain point of view. 

“What do you want, Maul?”

"Look what has become of you,” Maul said, ignoring the question. “A rat in the desert.”

“Look what I’ve risen above.” Obi-Wan lifted his chin, ignoring the grief and shame that roiled within him.

"I have come to kill you, but...” Maul moved again, not quite limping. “Perhaps it’s worse to leave you here, _festering_ in your squalor.”

His tone was smug and superior, but Obi-Wan could feel undertones to it as well. _Listen_ , the Force whispered. _Listen_. He knew what he _would_ have said, how he’d point out that Maul’s own lifestyle had gained him nothing, but instead he paused. And chose a different path.

“You could do that, yes,” he agreed, moving to keep the fire between them. “You may see it as squalor, but it’s the life I chose for myself and I’ve grown rather attached to it.”

Maul’s lip curled, eyes narrowing. “ _Your_ choice? You would _choose_ this... this burning wasteland? _Why?_ ”

Obi-Wan wasn’t about to tell him, so he deflected. “What would _you_ choose? If you could pick a life for yourself what would it be?”

It was, evidently, pushing him too far. Snarling, Maul ignited his sabercane.

“ _Choose_ a life?!” He slashed at the sand, sending up a wave that smothered the fire. “When have I _ever_ been able to choose anything? My life was chosen for me by my Master, just as yours was!”

The saber hummed as he swung at the air and then with a push of a button the second blade ignited and he twirled the staff needlessly dramatic as always.

Obi-Wan ignited his own saber and took a step back, readying himself just in case. His first instinct was to rebuke him. Their lives were _nothing_ alike; he’d chosen the path of the Jedi, chosen to help people and spread Light in the universe. Maul had chosen the darker path of the Sith. He’d chosen power, dominance, and death. His was a life of suffering and cruelty as Obi-Wan knew too well from too many experiences. 

As for their Masters the idea that Qui-Gon could have anything in common with Palpatine offended him down to his marrow. He wanted to tell Maul that Qui-Gon had been kind and generous and that his death had made the universe a darker place.

And yet.

There was something happening behind the words, too. He could feel rage boiling into the air around them; the longing to fight, but also the fear. Confusion. Anger. Uncertainty. Maul was like a guttering flame eager for more fuel. Desperate. Sad. Lonely. It clicked for him, a sense of connection he didn’t want. Their paths may have been different,but it seemed they had some things in common after all.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said, and meant it. Not just because he was old and tired; there was something new in his lifelong enemy, a tiny glimmer of... possibility?

“Because you’d lose!” 

Maul lunged. Obi easily blocked the strike. And the next one. And then Maul was backing away, disengaging.

“Haven’t we grown past this yet?” Obi-Wan let weariness seep into his tone. “What is it you really want? Why are you here?”

The answer seemed obvious, but the way Maul’s eyes widened and narrowed again, gaze shifting from side to side, reminded him of a trapped animal.

“I want your death!” Maul’s saber slashed at him in a sloppy move Obi-Wan easily parried. The noise of the strike almost covered his next words. “I want it to end.”

The flash of anger he’d sensed was gone, replaced by something that almost felt like grief. Obi-Wan stepped back and Maul wavered on his feet.

“My Master chose my path for me, but I was happy to follow it.” Maul’s voice was softer, almost a sing-song. “So eager. So _stupid!_ ” He bared his teeth. “I thought I was important, but I wasn’t, was I? Just a tool, just a tool.”

Obi-Wan maintained his guard position. Maul seemed to be unraveling before his eyes, but he’d been tricked before and what was being revealed was- important. As was the fact that, while Maul always had a tendency to monologue this felt different. He wondered if, perhaps, Maul didn’t want to fight, either.

“I was the _tool_ he sent to Naboo and that’s where it all went wrong! Because of you!”

The attack was swift, but Obi-Wan was ready. Block. Block. Parry. The strength of anger was behind the strikes, but it still felt choreographed, as if Maul was only going through the motions.

“I was supposed to prove myself!” Slash. “You were supposed to be the easy one!” Thrust. “Just the padawan! And look what happened!”

Sparks sizzled in the night air. Obi-Wan knew what moves Maul would make next because he’d seen this fight before. He knew how to end it, knew he could take this menace out for good. And yet.

“Kenobi!” 

Maul’s voice cracked and Obi didn’t even have to block the next move as it never came close, leaving a perfect opening. He didn’t take it.

“Why are you here, Maul?” 

“I was broken! Useless! Cast aside like so much garbage!” Maul’s chest heaved, his lips curling back from his teeth. “My Master no longer wanted me because of you! My life... everything... it keeps circling back to you!” The fire faded and his expression sagged. “Why? What _are_ you?”

He hesitated, not sure what answer Maul was looking for. “I am what I’ve always been; someone trying to do the right thing.”

Maul’s laugh was full of sharp edges. “Then you should have killed me on Naboo! You should have killed me _so many_ times! But you didn’t. _Why?_ ”

“Killing for revenge is not the Jedi way.” Obi-Wan moved when Maul did, trying to maintain the distance between them.

“The Jedi,” Maul sneered. “And where are they now, your precious Jedi? Dead or scattered to the winds, leaving the _Sith_ to control everything.”

He almost spat the word, making his otherwise triumphant statement sound like a condemnation. Obi-Wan frowned.

“You survived, though,” Maul continued. “Just as I survived. After everything we’ve been through we wind up here. Again. We are opposites, drawn together over and over. Fighting the same fight. Losing everything that matters to us.” His saber dipped lower and Obi-Wan tensed, but there was no strike coming.

“When will it end? When will this _torment_ finally be over?” 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth but hesitated. He wasn’t sure he’d been meant to hear that part. Maul’s eyes locked onto his, blazing.

“Why come to this place? Not simply to hide. Ohhh, you have a purpose here. Perhaps you are protecting something? No. Protecting _someone_.”

Ice spread through his veins and he raised his saber again. Maybe he’d be forced to kill Maul after all. He could NOT learn about Luke. If Palpatine found out about him- if _Vader_ found out- the consequences were too terrible to contemplate.

“Yess,” Maul purred. “That’s it. You have a secret buried out here in the sand.” He kept his saber angled down. “Tell me!”

“I’ve said more than you deserve already.” He took a step forward.

“Is it him?” Maul shifted into position, sabercane at the ready. “Is _he_ the one I’ve been searching for? The one who can _finally_ destroy the Sith and set me- set the universe- free?”

If it hadn’t been for decades of practice and muscle memory Obi-Wan might have faltered at that. He stared at Maul and wondered if this was what the Force had been trying to tell him.

“We’re the only ones here,” he said, choosing his words carefully.

“No,” Maul said. “There is another. But if it must end where it began then so be it!”

A minute ago he’d been prepared to kill to protect Luke. Now he wasn’t sure that was the right move. He blocked Maul’s strikes and when he saw an opening he took it, shearing through the hilt of the cane. But at the last second he pulled back, still scoring a hit to Maul’s chest, but not severing ribs or puncturing organs.

Maul’s face drained of anger and his animation, his burning need to _fight_ went along with it. He lowered his blades, extinguishing them as he dropped to his knees. Obi-Wan caught him, his own saber thumbed off. The cut might not have been severe, but it was obvious that things had been wrong even before their confrontation. His body radiated heat even through his robes and his skin was papery to touch. Sunstroke, dehydration, and probably hunger as well. The fact that he’d managed to fight at all was proof to his bantha-headed tenacity.

“He’ll live,” Maul said, lips cracking. “He’ll... avenge us.”

“Revenge is not-” He sighed. “When the time is right he’ll play his part. ...Maul?”

Maul’s eyes had glazed over, seeing nothing. A quick check showed that while his pulse was thready he was still very much alive. Leave it to Maul to pass out with his eyes open. Shaking his head Obi-Wan traced gentle fingers over the lids, closing them. He still wasn’t sure if sparing him had been the right choice, but the Force hummed around him and he could feel a new, bright spark taking root in the darkness before him. It felt like hope.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maul wakes up and is NOT HAPPY about this development. Obi-Wan has a surprising proposal for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't really planned to continue but between some discussion on tumblr and a prompt from [SLWalker](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker) it seems that this story, much like Maul himself, still has some life left in it.

Awareness returned, dragging its heels. Maul drew a breath, feeling a shiver through his chest like a memory of Force lightning. He took another and realized he was breathing. That was wrong. The air smelled of heat and sand and dust, with a trace of something else. He opened his eyes, staring up at a weathered expanse of stone.

“Ah, good, you’re awake.”

Maybe he was dead after all and had been sentenced to an afterlife of torment. He shifted his gaze to the left, the hated figure standing nearby coming slowly into focus. He tried to curl his lip and felt it crack and split.

“How are you feeling? As if I had to ask.” Kenobi sat facing him. “You look terrible. The Jundland Wastes defeated you before I even joined the fight.”

Maul tried to find his voice so he could condemn, threaten, or at least insult his old enemy. Kenobi prattled on, dipping his fingers into a bowl of something yellow that smelled rancid and moving his hand towards Maul’s head.

“No.” The word scalded his throat. He tried to twist away, but his body was reluctant to react. Kenobi touched the paste to his forehead and cool relief seeped into him, silencing some of the pain. His eyes fluttered closed.

“This will help, you stubborn old bantha,” Kenobi said. “Stop complaining.”

Maul wanted to show him exactly what complaining was like, but the words fled like shadows, taking his consciousness with them.

Variations of the scene were repeated a few more times, or maybe a lot of times before he managed to stay awake for more than a few minutes. It was full dark and a small fire glowed nearby, casting warmth and light.

He pushed himself upwards, ignoring the flares of agony through his upper body; he was used to pain. He hissed, waiting for the dizziness to pass before examining his surroundings. He was in some kind of raised alcove. A seating area, perhaps. The room around him was a hovel. More or less tidy, but still far below the standards of what Maul would have expected from a Jedi. Bare walls, a sand-strewn floor interrupted with occasional worn carpets. Battered furniture. Even the blanket tossed over him was rough, looking to have been woven out of some kind of animal hair.

He slid his legs to the floor and paused, flexing the joints. They moved with ease, much as they had before he’d arrived on this hellscape of sand. There was no crunching, no hesitation; even some of the torn spots in the metal had been smoothed down. He ran his fingers along the new scar across his chest. It was still raw, a vicious line from his hip to his shoulder, but it was healing well. It shouldn’t have been. None of this should be happening. He was certain Kenobi had meant to carve him in half again, ending him for good. Yet here he was.

It took what strength he could gather, but he managed to stand, swaying slightly as his battered body adjusted. He took a shuffling step, wondering where Kenobi was. He wouldn’t have left Maul alone in his house, would he? He had to know Maul would destroy it. And him. Metal scraped on stone as he took another step.

“KENOBI!” His voice cracked in the middle, sending tiny needles into his throat, but he didn’t let it show.

There was a muffled thump in a dark corner. He pivoted to get a look only for his head to continue spinning. He clutched it and felt himself tipping forward. Strong arms caught him, holding him close. Past and present blurred as he remembered the last time he’d been hugged.

“Brother! You’re here!” He clung back, distantly aware that the figure holding him was far too small to be Savage. It didn’t matter. “Brother,” he repeated, pleading with the universe to make it real.

“I’ve got you, Maul. You’re safe now.”

The voice was wrong. He squeezed his eyes shut as they started to burn, hot liquid leaking from the corners. A distant part of himself was disgusted at this craven display of weakness. He tried to push back, to get away, but the figure- and he knew now it was Kenobi, not Savage- was trying to tug him back towards the alcove he’d escaped.

“Back to bed with you,” Kenobi said. “You’re still running a fever.”

“Kriff you,” he croaked, pulling free. He staggered before finding his balance again. “I’ll kill you. Then it will finally be over!”

“Hush now,” Kenobi said. “There will be plenty of time for killing later, if that’s really what you choose.”

Maul stepped forward, intending to lash out at him, but the floor seemed to tip from under him. He was falling, only to be caught again in those arms. They carried him- with the Force’s help, no doubt- back to his alcove. Coolness touched his lips and he swallowed the water being offered before sinking back into oblivion.

The next time he awoke he vowed to do better. The lighting had changed to the pinks of dawn, or possibly dusk. He gathered his reserves and sat up, relieved that his head stayed clear this time. He could smell food cooking somewhere and couldn’t decide if he was nauseous or hungry.

Once again he placed his feet on the floor and stood. No dizziness. Grinning in triumph he took several steps forward.

“I see you’re awake again.” Kenobi appeared from a curtained area, bringing a stronger waft of meat scents with him. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m feeling well enough to finish our fight,” Maul snarled. “This time I’ll kill you!”

Kenobi had the audacity to smile. “So you keep promising. I’d like to offer you another option, if you’ll listen.”

Maul stared at him as he reached for his sabercane. It wasn’t there. Right, Kenobi had said it had been destroyed. He hissed in frustration.

“You could set aside this feud of yours and instead of trying to kill me we could work together.”

Maul continued to stare as he turned over the words again and again in his mind. Was he still hallucinating?

When he failed to reply, Kenobi continued speaking. “I realize that might seem counterintuitive given our history together, however, you did express an interest in achieving revenge against your former Master, did you not?”

He said nothing, studying the man before him. His hair was mostly white and the wrinkles had grown much more pronounced.

Sighing, Kenobi ran his hand down his face and scrubbed at his beard. “Revenge is not the Jedi way, of course, but there are other ways to achieve a bit of peace.”

“Peace is a lie,” Maul said, the words bubbling up on reflex.

“So you’ve been taught to believe,” Kenobi said, “but how much of what you were taught also proved to be a lie?”

It was a question he’d often asked himself over the years. Hearing it echoed by his enemy only made it worse.

“Please, have a seat.” Kenobi gestured at a chair. “The bone broth won’t be ready until later, but would you like some tea? I’m sure your stomach can handle that, at least.”

“I do not want your  _tea_ , Kenobi,” he sneered. “I want your-”

“I swear if you say you want my death I will sweep you out of here with the rest of the sand.”

Rage blazed, lending him its strength. He stood straight, shoulders back and fists clenched. In that moment his hatred for Kenobi was all-consuming. He hated him for cutting him in half, for handing him defeat after defeat, for always surviving and never Falling no matter what Maul did to him, and most of all because he was still free. He was one of the last Jedi, alone on a blistering canker of a planet no one cared about and he still had a life of his own. He still had a reason to live.

With that thought his anger extinguished, leaving him tottering on his metal legs. “I was going to say I want your…”  _Your what?_  he wondered. What  _did_ he want? Why was he here? It had all seemed so obvious at the time, but now everything felt clouded. Confused. He also had the nagging sense that something important had been revealed during his battle with Kenobi. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He was so kriffing  _tired_. It wasn’t just physical exhaustion, it extended into the Force and into whatever shriveled sense of self he had left.

Kenobi should have killed him when he had the chance, then he wouldn’t be here, doubting everything and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed like a whipped anooba and stay there. Why was he still here? He took a deep breath, lifted his eyes to meet Kenobi’s, and spoke.

“I want your help,” he said, mouth twisting at the bitterness of the word. Shame curdled in his stomach. “The Emperor must be killed and his Sith destroyed if there’s to be any hope left for the universe.”

He could feel the shock radiating out from Kenobi, but the man’s face remained placid.

“Then it seems we both want the same thing.” Kenobi looked at him and Maul could almost  _feel_ himself being measured. “There is… a possibility, but it isn’t one that can happen overnight.”

Maul rolled his eyes, ignoring the dizziness it touched off. “Empires are rarely toppled in a day.”

“Indeed.” Kenobi gestured at the chair again. “Have a seat and perhaps we can discuss this in more detail.”

“Why would you trust me?” Wary, he stalked over to the chair and sat before he could fall, eyes never leaving Kenobi’s.

“Why would you track me down after all these years? Was it really just to end my life? Or was it to end your torment?” There was a gleam in Kenobi’s eyes, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “We’ve played the roles expected of us for too long already. It has aged us and I’m sure you’d agree that the cost has been too high.”

Remembering Savage dying in his arms, Maul bit back his automatic objection. As if sensing that Kenobi nodded, his smile bitter.

“Too many have paid the price, but now that we are entering the twilight of our lives it could be time to choose new roles for ourselves. There may yet be time to alter the darkening path of Destiny.” He held out his hand. “What do you say, Maul? Are you up for one last challenge?”

Maul glared at the proffered hand. “You’re still a fool, Kenobi,” he said. “But for now I’m willing to tolerate a little foolishness.” He reached out to clasp his arm, Mando-style, and felt something sweep through him, soothing away his ragged edges. It spread outward, causing ripples in the Force around them. The shifts were too subtle for him to discern, but judging by the look in Kenobi’s eyes, he felt it, too. Things were changing and maybe, just maybe, it would be for the better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Happy May the Fourth! Have a chapter that ends on a cliffhanger that will hopefully guilt me into continuing it. Thanks for all the kudos and comments and thanks, as always, for reading.

It wasn’t easy, not for either of them. Obi-Wan still had to deflect the occasional thrown knife or remove a snake from his bed. But those times were getting rarer and were interspersed with moments of… not quite serenity, but an accord of sorts. At supper Maul might hand him the spice jar without prompting. Or he’d accept a tool from Obi-Wan while working to repair a vaporator.

There were other times, too. Nights where the Force would thrash, waking him to find Maul rigid, trapped in some nightmare. He did what he could to help, even if it meant risking a black eye or a blistering tirade. Much to his surprise were the nights when Maul would do the same for him. In his own acerbic way, of course, whether it be with a thrown pillow, a blast of cussing, or one memorable time levitating him out of his bed and dropping him to the floor. The memory made him smile, which was not a reaction he’d ever have imagined having in regards to his old enemy. But they weren’t really enemies anymore, no matter how much Maul insisted otherwise.

In fact they’d finally reached a point where Obi-Wan felt it was safe to show Maul the reason he’d exiled himself to this, what had he called it? Burning wasteland.

“I have something I want to show you,” he said, climbing into the cellar that Maul had taken over as his workshop.

“I washed my dishes,” Maul said without looking up from his soldering. “Do your own.”

Obi-Wan smothered another smile. “I’ll be sure to do that, but for now what I want to show you is quite a distance away. Or more accurately _whom."_

That got his attention. Maul looked up, his yellow eyes hidden behind dark goggles.

“Are you finally letting me in on your Great Secret?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Obi-Wan started back up the ladder, ignoring the insults lobbed at him as Maul finished what he was doing and followed him up.

“If this is about a secret child of yours that you’ve hidden away on this hellhole, I swear I will end you right now,” Maul warned.

Obi-Wan whirled, staring at him. “What?! What in the world made you think-” He cut himself off. There were several ways to end that question and none of them were good.

Maul wrinkled his nose, elbowing past him to enter the barn where the dewbacks were saddled and waiting.

“For a _Master Jedi_ you aren’t very good at knowing when you’re being followed.”

Obi-Wan’s heart froze. Maul had followed him when he’d gone to check on Luke? No, of course he had. But somehow Obi-Wan had missed it. He’d been overconfident, assuming his hard-earned desert skills would give him an advantage over Maul as they had before. He’d still taken every precaution, but clearly it hadn’t been enough.

Maul reappeared, leading Sally and Destructor.

“I will not deal with another generation of Kenobis,” he said, handing over Sally’s reins. “This one is bad enough.”

“I- He’s not- That is to say-” He paused, taking a deep breath to center himself before continuing. “The boy isn’t mine, Maul. I’m only looking after him for a- a friend.”

Maul mounted Destructor and looked at him, browmarks quirked.

“Oh, believe whatever you like.” Obi-Wan scowled down at the stirrup as he stepped into it, swinging his leg over Sally’s back. He was beginning to regret this decision. “I realize the Sith do things differently, but the Jedi are discouraged from forming strong attachments.”

Maul snorted. Obi-Wan didn’t blame him. For all that he might preach about attachments not being “the Jedi Way” he’d formed plenty of his own over the years. And paid the price for each of them.

They rode in silence most of the way, Obi-Wan lost in a swirl of memories and regret. He should have done better, he should have been better and tried harder to hold everything together. He should have been there for Anakin instead of lecturing him or turning a blind eye to the things he knew were happening with Padme. What would have been different if he’d cared more instead of less? Or if, as Anakin had sometimes used against him in their earliest years, _he_ had died instead of Qui-Gon? Would Jinn have been the better Master for a troubled young boy? Anakin had certainly believed it. Obi-Wan had, too, for far too long, but every now and then he’d remember instances from his own past with Qui-Gon and wonder if that was true. The difference, of course, was that Qui-Gon had never wanted Obi-Wan as a padawan, whereas he’d been willing to move the stars and the planets for a chance to train Anakin. Maybe that would have changed everything. But then again sometimes he could almost hear a whisper warning that things would have been far worse instead. It was impossible to know and a waste of time to think about.

He turned his thoughts to Maul, riding quietly beside him. He knew Grandmaster Yoda would say he should be killed. The only good Sith was a dead Sith and to not only spare him, but to live with him, to risk sharing one of the most vital secrets he had left? Foolishness, Yoda would say. Cultivating a disaster that could doom everyone. And yet…

And yet Maul already knew about Luke. Maybe not the full story, not yet, but he knew of the boy’s presence and he hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t killed him or taken his existence to the Empire, he’d kept the information to himself and waited for Obi-Wan to share. Maybe his trust wasn’t so misplaced after all.

“You’re giving me a headache.”

Obi-Wan blinked, startled from his thoughts. “I beg your pardon?”

“Stop brooding,” Maul said. “And if you don’t want me to know something then stop being obvious about it.”

“I shall try to remember that in the future,” Obi-Wan said, struggling not to point out the irony of Maul accusing _him_ of brooding.

“Good.”

They crested the rise before the Lars homestead. The farm itself was still a good distance away, but Obi-Wan reined his dewback to a stop.

“Now what’s wrong?” Maul asked, coming up beside him.

“Nothing,” he said, digging his quadnocs from his pack. “We’re here.”

Silence.

He’d just focused on the second vaporator where Luke liked to goof off under the guise of working when he realized it was _too_ quiet. He dropped the ‘nocs to see Maul already halfway down the dune.

“Maul, no!” Obi-Wan kicked Sally into action. “Stop! We can’t go any closer!”

“I did not come all this way just to watch from a distance like an unwelcome intruder,” Maul snapped. “I will not harm your boy, but I want to see him for myself!”

Obi-Wan grabbed for his reins but missed.

“It isn’t that I don’t trust you,” he said, ignoring the scoffing sound Maul made. “Owen and Beru made me swear not to interfere with his upbringing!”

“Then how are you meant to train him? Pantomime from the dunetops?”

“I…” Obi-Wan grimaced. He’d asked himself the same question over the years. “I haven’t started his training. Yet.”

Yellow eyes flared at him. “What were you planning to do, throw an untried, untested child at my former Master and hope for the best?”

“Of course not! I-”

“I began my training soon after learning to walk and even I could not defeat him.” Maul’s lips curled back as he glared at Obi-Wan. “I knew the Jedi were cowards, but I thought you, at least, had some honor.” He kicked Destructor into a gallop. “If you won’t teach him what he needs to know, I will!”

“Maul, wait!”

Obi-Wan gave chase. He feared what might happen in a confrontation between Maul and Owen, but at the same time felt relief wash through him. He hadn’t dared to contradict Luke’s uncle, but maybe he should have. Maybe this was exactly the push he needed to do what needed to be done. Because as much as he liked to hope against it, he could feel a confrontation coming; someday Luke would have to face off against the Emperor. And against his father. He needed to be ready for that fight and Obi-Wan would damn well make sure he had all the tools and training he could provide. Obi-Wan and, perhaps, a rather unexpected outside source.

He chased Maul across the sand as they headed towards a small, pale figure playing in the shadow of a vaporator and felt a smile stretch across his face. _Finally,_  he thought. _It begins._


End file.
